If you’re thinking this sounds like it needs an unmarked door—bingo. You’re looking for the one
that’s in between the Darby and Snap. If you find yourself sandwiched at a bar stool, you’ve made a
wrong turn. Go back and start again.

Before you can reach this
subterranean gold-leafed shoebox, you’ll have to maneuver past a highly discerning bouncer (hard) and
climb down a nearly invisible flight of black stairs (harder). At the bottom, several leagues below the feet
of a few hundred unsuspecting Jets fans, sits your destination—a sexy fallout shelter with a ceiling of
domed mosaic tiles and a floor based on designs by Thomas Jefferson (yes, seriously, and yes, that Thomas
Jefferson).

On your left, an omakase cocktail bar. On your right, a ring of button-tucked burgundy banquettes that were
built to be danced on but designed to protect secrets. That’s because every seat and table in the place is
riddled with hidden compartments.